


Frost Over A Flower

by RoryChaze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Oneshot, POV Minor Character, Winter, Wizarding Traditions, Wizarding World, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryChaze/pseuds/RoryChaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy over the winter holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frost Over A Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



It was cold out, but Pansy didn’t mind the bite of the wind much. Winter was her favorite season. Most people would argue with her, saying that winter was too cold and that everything was dead and there was no life in it. She would always disagree, but found her most compelling argument was, “But winter has Christmastime and everybody loves Christmastime.” She didn’t particularly care for the holiday, but it offered her a good stance when her friends would argue.

Christmastime to her was an abundance of presents from her parents, but never an abundance of her parents themselves. They always had parties to go to. Or so they would claim. Sometimes she would end up at the parties, dressed elegantly in blazing emerald with a big bow in her hair; but the holiday always reminded her of how she would open her presents by herself, the maids looking over her shoulder starry-eyed. She would always let them pick a present from the pile for themselves, watching as their faces broke out into unending grins. She would then end up curled up on the library couch, practicing simple spells or reading a classic book. A steady stream of hot chocolate with a splash of brandy in it was supplied by the maids, thanking her with quiet looks and smiles.

No, Pansy was no stranger to winter. Sure she loved the warmth of the indoors. The spicy smell of cinnamon and cloves, and the sticky scent of balsam from the Christmas trees in every room were comforting and welcoming. But her favorite thing to do was crunch through newly fallen snow, picking her favorite pansies off of the ground and cranberries off of the vines lining the fence to the fountain out back, rarely wearing anything more than a light coat. The snow and cloud cover was a blanket warm enough for her. She sat on the edge of the fountain and watched as crows would find their way into a tree to catch some sleeping bugs, and squirrels who weren’t quite ready for hibernation would tear through a pinecone lazing in the snow drifts, while a flock of geese flew south for the winter honking at their family along the way. 

People could be so wrong. Winter was alive in more ways than one, and was the most beautiful thing she saw every year. Snow flurries drifted heavily down in the light winds, deer came out to munch on evergreens, and everything was so peaceful and quiet, happening in a place that was far different from her usual busy life. During winter, Pansy could slow down and finally take time for herself, instead of flirting and socializing with her friends for her families’ sake. Winter was when Pansy felt in control and especially powerful. Yes, people could be so wrong. Pansy was beautiful in more ways than one, and was the only flower she knew that could survive the chill of winter.


End file.
